


Love is Stronger than Death

by Dontknowmyname



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen, Gun Violence, Hurt Sam, Mystery Spot, Possible medical inaccuracies, Protective Dean, Sam Winchester Whump, Season 3, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-16
Updated: 2020-06-16
Packaged: 2021-03-04 04:35:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,362
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24747700
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dontknowmyname/pseuds/Dontknowmyname
Summary: He had watched Dean die over a hundred different ways and nearly every single one flashed before his eyes when he saw the gun pointed directly at his brother.
Comments: 11
Kudos: 89





	Love is Stronger than Death

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sammy_whammy_whumperflies](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sammy_whammy_whumperflies/gifts).



> This a very late birthday gift for my wifey. I hope this gives you some whumperflies and that it was worth the wait! 
> 
> P.S. Since she normally helps me edit and I didn’t want to spoil the surprise, I’m presenting this without a beta. Please excuse my errors as well as medical inaccuracies.

It was rare that they had a day off. Yeah they got a few days here and there when things were quiet, but even then they were usually sleeping or researching. Lately, Dean had been trying to keep them busy with hunts or checking things off his bucket list while Sam kept busy with lore that had given them nothing but dead ends when it came to Dean’s deal. 

Today was no different. Dean startled awake to find Sam hunched over the small motel table, staring at a book he had surprisingly never seen. The bags under Sam’s eyes seemed darker, but he couldn’t tell if they were actually getting worse or if Sam was just pale. Neither was good.

“Jesus, Sam,” He mumbled as he rubbed his eyes and tried to make out the time on the clock. “Did you get any sleep?”

They had left the previous town in a hurry, driving through the night until they were in the next state. Dean knew Sam hadn’t slept much the night before and he definitely didn’t sleep in the car. 

“I couldn’t.” Sam didn’t even look up when he spoke.

“Come on, man, you’re no good to me if you don’t take care of yourself.”

Sam has spent hours upon hours researching ever since he found out about Dean’s deal, but it had gotten even worse after Broward County. He was watching Dean like a hawk, becoming anxious anytime Dean suggested separating, even if it was just to go pick up some take-out. Dean wasn’t complaining though. Sam told him about the tricksters time-loop and while he knew there was more to the story, what Sam had told him was quite enough. 

“Listen,” Dean threw his legs over the side of the bed and ran a hand through his hair. “If you’re not going to sleep, then let’s go have a little fun.”

“I don’t exactly share your idea of fun.” Still no eye contact. 

Frustrated, Dean stood up and walked over to the table. Sam kept his eyes on the book, skimming and turning pages at what seemed like a record speed to Dean. When he cleared his throat and received no response, Dean seamlessly flipped the book closed, pulled it away from Sam and tossed it onto the bed. 

He headed to the bathroom, splashed a bit of water on his face and fixed up his disheveled hair before walking back out into the room. Dean tucked his gun into the waist of his jeans and then grabbed his jacket. When he turned back to Sam, his brother was staring off into space. 

“Earth to Sam!” He snapped his fingers in front of Sam’s face, feeling a bit guilty when their eyes finally met he noticed the unshed tears. He turned away quickly and headed toward the door as he called, “Let’s go.”

~~*~~ 

Dean had seen the bar on their way into town, it was only a few blocks from the hotel. He figured a nice walk in the cool air could do them some good and maybe he could get Sam to loosen up a bit before they got there. It didn’t seem promising though.

“Where are we going?” Sam asked after a few minutes. 

“Drown our sorrows.” Dean turned back to Sam and smiled, but Sam didn’t seem to find him very funny. “You’ve always been a light weight. I figured we can have a few beers, then you’ll pass out and finally get some sleep.”

“This is a waste of our time, Dean, and we don’t have much of that left.”

“I get it.” He stopped this time and reached his arm out to stop Sam as well. “But I need this, Sam. Humor me, will ya?”

It was kind of a low blow because Dean knew Sam wouldn’t argue with that. He just nodded his head and fell in step next to Dean as they walked the rest of the way. 

When they finally arrived, Dean was surprised at how crowded the bar was. It was so easy to loose track of the days in their line of work so it hadn’t dawned on him that it was Friday night. Of course there would be more people than they were used to. The Winchesters didn’t usually do crowds, but, they were already here and Dean really needed a drink. 

Sam didn’t argue. He actually didn’t say anything as he walked through the door Dean was holding open. His silence was a bit concerning, but Dean added that to the list of things to worry about another time. Tonight the goal was to forget about Hell, forget about demons and just have a little fun. 

Unfortunately there weren’t too many seating options in the tiny run down place. It was exactly the type of bar where they normally fit right in, but with such a large crowd it had lost some of its appeal. Dean managed to find a spot at the bar where he ordered them each a beer and a shot of tequila. 

Of course Sam shook his head and tried to refuse the shot, but Dean just stared at him until he finally took the glass. Dean couldn’t help but smile. This was his happy place. He had live music, even if it wasn’t exactly his type, cold beer and Sam. It was going to a good night.

At least that’s was he thought. He should have known better.

~~*~~ 

This was not at all how Sam had planned on spending his night. He was no closer to finding a way out of Dean’s deal and he felt like there was this crushing weight that got heavier and heavier as the days went by. However, he tried to remind himself that his brother was still here. That he still had time to roll his eyes at Dean’s jokes, complain about his music and enjoy the little things. So he gave in and followed Dean to the bar. He certainly wasn’t going to let Dean go by himself.

It was pretty obvious that Dean had every intention of getting Sam drunk. Not just, happy-fall-asleep-quickly drunk, but full on expose-all-secrets-and-maybe-cry-alittle drunk. He tried to turn down the offered shot, fully aware of where the night would head if he didn’t, but one look at Dean’s pleading eyes and he couldn’t resist. 

They didn’t say much after that. They stayed close to the bar, not venturing anywhere near to the small group of drunks dancing in front of the band. Sam watched Dean tap his foot along to a cover of some 90’s song and Sam smiled. This may not have been where he wanted to be, but honestly, it was exactly where he needed to be.

Of course his happiness was cut short rather abruptly. 

Instinctively, his eyes went to the door when he noticed someone entering out of the corner of his eye. He watched as a man in his early 20s looked around the bar, searching for something or someone. It was with that motion, that the gentleman’s coat lifted and Sam caught sight of the gun. It was obviously this guy had no idea what he was doing as the gun was just resting in his pocket, only covered by the hem of his shirt and not really concealed. 

“Dean,” Sam whispered, keeping his eyes on this gentleman the entire time. “We’ve got a problem”

Sam nodded toward the man now heading toward the bar and mouthed the word gun with all the urgency he could put into it. Luckily, Dean understood and now had his eyes glued to the man as well. Neither of them wanted to act too quickly, but they also didn’t want to wait for something to happen. 

Unfortunately, they didn’t have to wait too long. The man clumsily pulled out his gun and pointed it toward the bartender who was the first to scream out, followed by those customers nearby. Of course, Sam and Dean were the crazy ones heading toward the gun as everyone else pushed their way to the door. Some were rooted to their spots though, staring at the scene unfolding before them.

“Stay back,” Dean grabbed Sam’s arm, forcing him to stop before quickly turning around and rushing toward trouble. 

Sam glared and held back the urge to argue as he followed behind anyway. He listened as Dean called out to the gunman who instantly turned toward the noise, gun now aimed directly at his brother. This was all too familiar. Memories came rushing back, nearly sending him to the ground. He had watched Dean die over a hundred different ways and nearly every single one flashed before his eyes again. 

Before he could even register what he was doing, Sam felt himself rushing to close the already short distance between himself and Dean. He screamed out, no comprehension of what he actually said, but it startled the man enough for the trigger finger to slip. Sam pushed his way in front of his brother just as the gun went off and he felt his body fall backwards. 

“I-I didn’t mean-”

Sam had trouble making out everything that was being said, but he felt arms tighten around him and he knew someone was yelling just as Sam was being lowered into a seating position. He tried to force his eyes to stay open, wanted to see what was happening since his ears weren’t of much use, but he was fighting a losing battle.

~~*~~ 

“Call 911!” Dean yelled out to anyone near by and didn’t wait to see if they actually listened. He didn’t even pay attention to the damn fool who had brought the gun in the first place. His full attention was on the shivering little brother in his arms.

“Heya, Sammy,” Dean whispered, his hand gently prodding at the wound on Sam’s shoulder. He winced in sympathy but quickly went into action. “I got ya, buddy.”

He pulled the bandana out if his pocket and pressed it to Sam’s shoulder, holding Sam tight to his chest as he applied pressure to the wound. Sam’s eyes blinked open again, looking around frantically until he finally met Dean’s. It was a bit difficult, but Dean forced himself to smile as he ran his free hand through Sam’s hair. 

“What the hell were you thinking?” He couldn’t even convey anger at the moment, only concern, but Sam still frowned and broke eye contact. 

“I couldn’t,” Sam’s eyes drifted close again but Dean pressed harder on his shoulder. “I couldn’t watch you die. Not again.”

“Sam,” Dean rested his chin atop Sam’s head and sighed. “I was fine.”

“You can’t leave me.”

“I’m not.”

“You did,” Sam turned his head into Dean chest and his eyes closed. “Six months. I can’t do it.”

“Hey!” Dean tugged at Sam’s hair until his eyes opened again. “I’ve never left you, Sam. I’m right here.”

“No,” There was obvious frustration in Sam’s weak voice. “You died and I was alone. You can’t die again.”

It was all starting to make sense. Sam had said he woke up every time Dean died in the time-loop. This must be the part Sam hadn’t told him about. This was why Sam didn’t want Dean to go off alone, why he had been unusually quiet and watched Dean’s every move. He’s been living on edge, waiting for something terrible to jump out of no where and take Dean away again, maybe for good this time. Dean knew exactly how painful that was. 

He kept steady pressure on the wound with one hand and held Sam’s head close to his own with the other as the sound of sirens grew closer. Dean wasn’t quite sure what else to say at this point, but he pulled his brother in even tighter, doing his best to keep Sam awake. He thought about the distant look in Sam’s eyes and how Sam had suddenly become almost robotic on hunts. It was kind of a relief at the time. He had felt a sense of pride that made him slightly less worried about his approaching trip to hell. Now, he felt guilty for not questioning it more. Somehow, San had turned into a bitter, lonely hunter.

“You kept hunting.” The words were out before Dean could really think them through. 

For a moment, Dean felt his panic spike when Sam didn’t respond, but then he heard the quiet, humorless chuckle. Sam clumsily turned his head and tilted his chin up, giving Dean a clear view of his face. Dean watched him closely for a few seconds and then hugged him impossibly closer, cheek resting on Sam’s forehead now. 

“Yeah,” Sam’s voice was weak and he stopped often to catch his breath. “I hunted solo. It wasn’t good. Lots of casualties.” 

“But you survived.”

“No,” Sam shook his head before turning slight so his tired eyes met Dean’s once again. “It wasn’t me. Not without you.”

Dean hadn’t realized the lights were on and people were still staring at them. He didn’t register anything until the doors flew open and flashing lights bounced off the walls as the paramedics came rushing toward them. Sam’s eyes had drifted closed, but Dean felt a firm squeeze to his forearm and he knew, despite the pain, Sam was trying to reassure him. 

One of the paramedics attempted to pull Sam away from him and Sam held tighter as Dean practically growled. He knew Sam needed help, but he just wasn’t ready to let go and he certainly didn’t want Sam to go alone. 

“They’re gonna help you,” He forced himself to sound confident in his words. “I’m going to stay with you though.”

The paramedic looked as if he wanted to argue, but Dean shot a glance his way that instantly stopped him from saying anything. They carefully got Sam onto the stretcher and Dean saw Sam start to panic until he grabbed his brother’s hand and held it tight. 

“Don’t die,” Sam whispered as the paramedics began pushing him toward the ambulances, Dean following right along.

“I’m not going anywhere” Dean squeezed Sam’s hand. “Neither of us is dying today, Sammy.”


End file.
